Breed, Eagles Breed!

And fish were just starting to feel safe.

Quite possibly the biggest news to ever be heard in the hallways of Arlington’s United States Fish and Wildlife Service, it seems that despite the rocketing gas prices, the fledgling war effort, a loss of confidence in Presidential leadership, the struggling real estate market, and Paris Hilton’s ability to capture the national attention span, America is doing just fine. While most accountants use numbers as the bottom line for success and failure, we here at YAB prefer to live in the abstract.

Symbolically speaking, we’re awesome.

The latest sign? The noble Bald Eagle just pulled a Pacino.

For the duration of my life, our national bird was out. It was the poster creature for every reference to extinction, endangered species, and threatened existence. While all the fame and publicity of holding such lavish photo opportunities might seem nice for awhile, look what it did for the title’s predecessor. Poor Dodo, we hardly knew ye.

Despite being limited in number, the Bald Eagle has consistently stepped up to the plate for the U.S. It has stayed still countless times so that we could create bronze replications for our federal buildings. It has survived a horrific re-creation of itself at Nationals games. They’ve sent one of their best to serve as one of the most-underrated Muppets of all time. But because of rampant deforestation, urbanization, and prejudice towards those who lack full-bodied heads of hair, the Bald Eagle has declined in numbers over the years.

Time to pull them back in.

After all, the Bald Eagle is such a stern, menacing, dignified avian animal, it sets the tone for all of America on the international stage. Ever wonder what birds other, less impressive nation have come up with? Switzerland employs the noble “chicken,” while the UK rolls with the fierce “European robin.” Other than Peru’s “Andean Cock-of-the-rock,” frankly we’re not impressed.

And for the record, someone should probably break the bad news to Mauritius. Their national bird in the dodo.

Being placed on the USFWS’ federal list of threatened and endangered species is like taking a seat on Death Row. You know your time is coming as a species to disappear, and it becomes a waiting game. Countless inmates have come before you – T-Rex, Auroch, Laysan Rail – and gone without much fanfare. When the Bald Eagle joined the list, things did not look good for him, nor America.

But these birds – they are a-breedin’.

Come June 29th, the USFWS will hand down a landmark decision as to whether they will or will not remove the Bald Eagle from our national registry of short-stick carrying creatures. It seems that while everyone was so careful not to kill these guys, they’ve taken the opportunity of this safe period to build their numbers back up and re-enter the birdforce with numbers not seen since the beginning of the 20th century. So in an unusual reversal of fortune, it seems the Bald Eagle has proven itself worthy as a self-sustaining national landmark.

(That freeloading oak tree, on the other hand...)

So just where are all our bald eagles, you may ask? According to this map, they prefer the cold confines of states like Minnesota and Wisconsin. And while the climate in Arizona and New Mexico are largely similar, bald eagles prefer being in the former by a score of 86-8. And you questioned the draw of having four pro sports teams. But the most curious thing on the map? Apparently, there are 2 bald eagles somehow finding a way to live in the District of Columbia. Sure, there’s only a pair in Vermont and Rhode Island, too, but where in DC can bald eagles fly?

Apparently, they’re cool with taxation without representation.

Always Bet on Black?

I thought we made it clear long, long ago that I’m not a big fan of e-mailed advertisements. Unless you’re offering a discount on something I was already going to buy (read: EA Sports), I’m probably not going to frequent your website just because you thought it would be fun to reach out and say hello. Yeah, everyone likes getting e-mail, and we think it is real fancy when you’re able to work our actual name into your sales pitch, but ultimately, you’re just wasting our time and our server space.

Believe it or not, one does have control over what e-ads (we assume the hyphen is in place of the letter “g”) appear in his/her inbox. If you choose to closely guard your address by not entering it anywhere on the Internet, you’re probably pretty safe. However, keep in mind by staying under the radar like that probably won’t get you to the level of popularity you need to be Homecoming Queen, either. You’ll have to achieve that post the old fashion way – by begging and whining to MTV to be an episode of “Made.” What was I talking about? Ooh, shiny.

I tend to only use my main e-mail address on websites from which I’d like some sort of documentation or receipt. I figure it’s a way better plan than them mailing me an actual receipt, which I’ll inexplicably stuff into my wallet and keep there until Katie insists I clean out the raging sea of paper that it has become. After all, when the baby’s here, we don’t want her crawling into my wallet, only to go missing for long periods of time.

(Let’s wait until she’s 16 for her to go missing with access to my credit cards, shall we?)

Anyways, one of the e-mails I receive about once a week comes from a website called Tastings Journal. I can’t exactly remember why, either. In general, it’s a website that offers you meal offers at insanely-outrageous restaurants for only slightly-outrageous prices. I really have no idea how they have it, unless OpenTable.com is being generous with their proprietary data. I can’t tell you what the e-mails say; I delete them much too quickly to comprehend the words they contain. Anyways, I decided that I have had enough of the Tastings Journal, and unsubscribed this morning. Their response?

This is the last email you will receive from us. We have added you to our "blacklist", which means that our newsletter system will refuse to send you any other email, without manual intervention by our administrator.

I’ve been blacklisted?

How about “unsubscribed” or even “begrudgingly ignored???” No, no, I’ve been blacklisted. My e-mail address has been added to a long list of people who do not like to eat gourmet cuisine for less-than-gourmet prices. And if there were ever a new fancy restaurant to open nearby, they would be warned NOT to contact me for my business. My money’s no good there, and Tastings Journal wants to make sure it stays that way.

What did I do to deserve this?

That’s right, I opted out of further mailings. I didn’t sell secrets to the Soviet Union. I haven’t written a pinko screenplay as propaganda. Geez, people. I’m all for America! I have spoken out against the evils of the Cold War! I watch the Colbert Report. What more do you want?

(Other than rooting for America’s team, that is.)